


Shiver

by SpearowDee



Category: Togainu no Chi
Genre: Abuse, Almost an alternate universe, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Blood and Gore, Depression, Eventual Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Igura in Winter, Keisuke isnt an idiot, Line does not exist, M/M, Masochism, My First AO3 Post, No named characters die, Out of Character, S&M, Sadism, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Tension, Shiki is intentionally way out of character, Slow Burn, Underage - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-07 15:46:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8806807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpearowDee/pseuds/SpearowDee
Summary: Akira enters Igura when he has no options left.  17 years old and no family to speak of he finds himself homeless and in desperate need of food with winter closing in he takes nothing but the clothes on his back and what little he can fit in his pockets.(more information in notes)(rating for later chapters)





	1. A New Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> This is nearly an alternate universe in its own right. Line does not exist. It is winter when Akira enters Igura and he does so on his own accord. Shiki is in no way going to be a nice-nice guy, but he is however going to be very out of character. Right now my plans aren't certain regarding the additional characters in the tags and when they will come into play. No named fandom characters will die in this fanfiction. Akira is 17 in this, he can be considered underage I suppose. Shiki is in his early-mid twenties. Also, Akira is depressed. If any other tags need to be added later I will add them. I just wanted to mention this so you'll have an idea of why he is so bleak and quiet in the beginning of this story, and he doesn't have much interest to do anything. 
> 
> I do not have a beta for this. I have not written anything in over a year so go easy on me? Haha
> 
> If you are unfamiliar with Togainu no Chi;  
> 1) dogtags are currency used to get food, water and other supplies. they also display your participation in the game. you must have one in sight on your person.  
> 2) you obtain them through fighting other members of Igura. fights often lead to death and rules say you need a witness at the fight to prove your opponents back hit the ground. (signalling a loss)  
> 3) the 'executioners' kill those who break the rules.
> 
> Messages or comments/any kind of feedback would be really appreciated. You can make predictions or just comment on anything in the story, any questions you might have in case I forgot to mention something and caused confusion. ^^ Helpful criticism is fine. Bashing etc will be ignored.

The chilly winter air bites at Akira's exposed face and neck, he buries his hands into this jacket pockets in a feeble attempt to stay warm. Igura's sky is a daunting red hue dotted in gathering clouds most likely bringing snow with them. _How did I get into this mess?_ He scolds himself mentally for letting his life get to this point.  Of course it is not his fault he was orphaned at a young age, or at least he likes to think so.  He worked his ass off yet he still wasn't able to keep his shabby one room apartment where he lived in solitude, and he isn't one to ask for help so he couldn't burden Keisuke by intruding at his apartment.  His friend will understand.  Igura is his last hope of being able to provide for himself and maybe even have the leisure of staying in a house or apartment if he can find one.  He knows the place is dangerous but he grew up a fighter and thinks he will be able to manage. 

He eventually comes to a tall metal fence indicating the very edge of the boundaries of Igura.  The metal is cold against his bare palms as he pulls himself up and over.  Ahead of him is a long expanse of frozen cracked earth.  No signs of life in sight.  In the distance he can see the outlines of tall abandoned buildings.  He pulls his hood up over his head and places his aching hands back in his somewhat warmer pockets.  The increasing amount of clouds lingering above him are an uncomfortable reminder that he needs to find shelter or risk freezing when the storm comes.  He trembles at the thought of the temperature dropping even lower as the sun begins to sink over the horizon and quickly picks a direction and starts walking again.  He needs to find some sort of shelter or he won't make it through the night.

The city itself is very unsettling when he finally arrives along the outskirts.  A light dusting of snow has already began covering the ground of the abandoned roads.  He is exhausted, freezing, and hasn't eaten in a few days.  Leaning against a building he takes a moment to compose himself and looks at his surroundings.  Some of the buildings are tall and looming, shattered windows littering some of them and others have been boarded up with planks of wood that were probably at one time floorboards.  There are very few cars sitting around and all of them have been gutted, windows busted out and the engines and insides long removed.  He absently remembers hearing of some basic rules. No running vehicles, guns, or explosives are permitted here.  The silence is deafening.  He peaks down the alleyway next to the building he was leaning against, a creeping feeling of paranoia crawling up his back.  The snow begins to pick up and he worries he will soon find himself in a blizzard.  Shaking loose snowflakes from his hood he quickly heads down a street at random, every so often darting cautious eyes behind him.  

His first though when he sees lights in a building coming up on the right side of the road is that he needs to change his direction and avoid it.  Curiosity and his aching muscles get the best of him however, and he finds himself quietly approaching the tall building.  Billows of steam flow from a vent below one of the buildings windows, and the stirrings of desperation hit him.   _The building is heated._ He considers his options from the shadows.  The building is rather large, and there is no way of knowing how many people are holed up in there.  Enough that they are confident enough to have lights on at night.  The thought makes a ball of worry form in his stomach and suddenly he is very aware that he could very well be in danger.  Desperation gets the best of him and he decides to slink across the street towards the building, carefully sticking to the shadows and making his way to the vent spitting out some much needed warm air.  He crouches down and curl up as small as he can get, leaning his back against the bricks and nearly groaning at the warm air blasting out at him.  His body shakes violently as it tries to warm itself.  Now that he is up close and personal to the building he can hear laughter and the movement of several people inside.  The voices are calming and before long he relaxes.  

**...**

"You will freeze out here you know."

The sudden, calm voice pulls Akira from sleep, his hand going to the knife on his waist reflexively.  He looks up and was met with a big smile and bright blue eyes, a rather small blond looking down at him, hands on his waist and clearly not concerned at all that Akira has his hand on a weapon.

"Did you sleep out here last night?" The stranger asks, holding out a hand as if to help Akira to his feet.  Akira eyes the offered hand warily, but then assesses the man before him and feels fairly confident that if there is a fight he would probably come out on top.  The blond's hand is warm and small, and to Akira's surprise he is practically pulled entirely to his feet before he can begin to stand.  Okay so this guy is stronger than he appears.  Remembering he was asked a question he picks at bits of snow frozen in his silver hair.

"Yes."  He admits, his stomach grumbling in protest and a renewed shiver of cold running through him.  The blond laughs and claps a hand on Akira's icy shoulder, the impact a bit harder than expected but he doesn't flinch.  

"Well then."  The blond giggles. "Isn't it a bit cold to be loitering outside by yourself? Oh! You must be new here." Blue eyes flash over Akira's person then the blond seems to nod to himself.  "No tags huh?  Why don't you come inside we can help you out.  This place is a Safezone of sorts."  The man winks, grasping at Akira's wrist and tugging him behind him.  "I'm Rin.  Let's go get you warmed up."

**...**

Akira throws caution to the wind at the thought of warmth at last, his skin feeling numb and his muscles sore.  He lets Rin walk him to the front door of the house, and the guy has not stopped talking.  Akira has no idea what the little blond is even rambling about at this point.  His mind is too busy swimming with hunger, dehydration and aching limbs.  When the warm air hits him it takes the breath out of him.  His body immediately starts shaking trying desperately to warm itself.  

"You feel like an icecube!" Rin muses, dragging Akira past a kitchen that smells of food and a couch littered with decorative pillows and blankets.  They head down a hall and Rin frowns to himself.  "I'll steal some of Motomi's clothes for you to wear while I wash yours.  Take your time warming up and put your clothes on the sink."  Without further ado Akira finds himself pushed into a room, Rin shutting the door from the outside.  "Towels and washcloths are in the closet!" His light voice rings through the door.

Akira stands there, disbelief wracking his body.  He really should be more wary but the guy seemed friendly enough.  He has no idea _why_ Rin has decided to help him but for now he really doesn't have any better options than to see how this plays out.  Stripping out of his clothes he grimaces, the material feeling hard and nearly frozen.  Placing his belt and knife on the sinks edge he looks himself over in the mirror as he stands there naked.  He looks terrible.  His eyes are lined with dark circles and his skin looks so pale.  He now sees that part of his hair is literally frozen in some parts.  His body is exhausted from working to keep warm.  There are disposable cups in a stack on the sink and he helps himself to one before filling it with cool water from the sink and gulping it down.  The water feels amazing rolling down his dry throat.  After two more cups of water he decides he is ready to clean up.  Still shivering he turns on the water in the tub and decides on a shower.  A bath would be nice but he doesn't feel comfortable taking one here and just wants to warm up and get out, even if Rin told him he could take his time.

The water heats up soon and he slowly slips under the little waterfall of warmth, gritting his teeth as new splinters of pain wrack his body from the abrupt temperature change.  He lets warm streams of water flow over his head and down his face, every inch of his body seeking the warmth its been deprived of.  It takes a while to start warming up but once he stops shivering and turns off the water.  He slips out and quickly grabs himself a towel from the closet, discovering that Rin must have come in while he was showering because his clothes have disappeared from the sink and pile of folded clothes are in its place.  He eyes them skeptically but is too cold and much too naked to be going to Rin and demanding his clothes back.  Anyways, his knife and belt have been left untouched and that is more important.  He slips on a long sleeved white shirt and a pair grey sweats.  It doesn't take him long to realize the clothes probably look absurd on him.  The sweats rest low on his hips only held up by the drawstring around the waist, and the shirts sleeves easily cover his hands.  He steps out of the bathroom and his eyes seek out Rin.  The blonds voice can be heard down the hall, and another much deeper voice along with it.  Akira walks quietly down the hallway, carrying with him his only personal belongings in the form of a well sharpened knife and worn belt.  As soon as he comes into the blond's peripheral vision blue eyes are directed towards him.

"Feel better?"  Rin asks happily, thin legs crossed where he is perched on the couch next to an older man with dark chocolate hair.

"Yeah, thanks."  He says, never being much of a talker he tries to keep his answers short and with little room for further discussion.  A deep chuckle comes from the man seated next to Rin, dark brown eyes scouring over Akira.

"So this the 'icicle' you mentioned?"  He lifted a cigarette to his mouth for a moment then breathed out deeply, a long billow of smoke flowing his lips.  Rin smacks the older man on the arm playfully before looking back at Akira somewhat apologetically.

"I forgot to ask your name, sorry."  He blushes in embarrassment, glowering at his friend when he laughs lowly once more as he takes another drag from his cigarette.

"It's Akira."  Akira replies shortly, still standing in the archway not sure what to do with himself.  Rin seems to notice and beckons for Akira to join them.

"Akira. That's a nice name." He smiles, shouldering the guy next to him as he adds.  "This is Motomi.  He didn't mind lending you some of his clothes."  Akira moves into the room and takes an armchair across from where Rin and Motomi are sitting on one of two couches in the room.  

"Thank you."  He says awkwardly, dark eyes glancing in the older mans direction.  

"No problem.  You can keep those. Rin said you didn't have anything with you and were outside half frozen like a lost puppy."  A smile curls on his lips as he puts his cigarette out on the ashtray.  "You can stay here if you need somewhere to stay, we have extra rooms.  We'll set you up with some tags to get you started."

Akira sits there speechless, wondering if he heard that right.  They will let him stay here?  Where there is heat and warm showers and water?  Even a room he can use?  Surely it's too good to be true.  Even with the doubt clouding his mind a feeling of relief washes over him and it feels like a weight has been lifted from his chest.

"Well what do you say?"  Rin asks, his eyes bright and full of energy.  Akira wonders if the guy ever gets tired.  "Do you want to stay here?" The blond prompts, looking far too excited about asking a stranger to move in.

"Yes, please."

**...**

After Akira agreed to stay indefinitely Rin had gleefully jumped up from the couch and insisted he show him his room.  The entire upstairs is is made up of bedrooms, bathrooms, and one large common room with more couches and armchairs.  He is given the liberty to choose which vacant bedroom he wants, so he picks the room at the end of the hall.  It is bare and impersonal like the other vacant rooms, but what he liked about this one is that it has two outer walls and with it, two windows.  Rin promises to bring his clothes up once they have dried and even says they will help him get some more things.  It looks like things are turning out better than Akira could have imagined, not counting the walk here and his punishing night in the cold.  

A few days pass and Akira is quietly adjusting to his life at what Rin likes to call the Safezone.  The little blond talks to Akira, a lot, even though Akira doesn't really talk back.  Which led Rin to the conclusion that he is shy.  He lets him think that.  Motomi is rather reserved too, usually looking through photos on his assortment of cameras or sitting idly on the couch while Rin talks to him.  People come and go, bringing with them crates of water and these odd things called 'solids' that Akira is still trying to get used to eating.  Some people come in covered in blood from fights and things, looking for somewhere to clean up or bum some water in exchange for some tags.  Akira spends a lot of his time quietly in the living room on the first floor.  Motomi lets him look at his photographs but doesn't really speak much and he doesn't ask questions, which Akira is thankful for.  The older man even goes through his clothes one day and puts together a few sets before telling Akira to take them, insisting they don't fit him anymore.  Akira knows better.  He is happy for the clothes though, and thanks him.  

Two weeks into his stay and Akira decides to start trying to carry his weight around the place.  His body has recovered nicely and even though he is still a bit thin he is perfectly capable of going out and trying to get some tags to help out at home. _Home_. He has a place he can call home now, things have changed so much in just a few weeks.  Rin and Motomi both protest when he dresses as warmly as he can and says he is going out.  After assuring them he will be alright he slips outside into the cold winter air.  

It becomes a routine for him to go on runs.  It turns out a lot of the people here don't have the experience he has at putting people on their ass in a fight.  He hasn't had to use his knife yet which he is thankful for, he isn't really keen on the idea of getting any wounds that would prevent him from making runs.  So far he has only had to fight with his hands and when needed his knees or feet.  Rin gives him wary looks every time he leaves in the mornings but his face brightens up when Akira comes home in one piece.  He brings in quite a lot of tags and feels better about doing his part.  This routine goes on without incident for several more weeks, and while the snow is unrelenting and he still doesn't talk much he does feel quite comfortable at the Safezone

But as with all things, nothing lasts forever.

**...**

Akira is trudging through the snow one afternoon while out on the run.  His body is becoming stronger and more accustomed to being out in the cold weather the longer he is here.  He does rather enjoy fighting and in some way it is the closest thing to a hobby he has ever had.  He is passing by several buildings and streets, keeping an eye out for any challengers.  He wears the ace of spades around his neck on a thin silver chain, the metal cold against his skin.  He hasn't seen any sign of human life all day, and is just about to head back to the Safezone for the night.  No sooner than he starts debating heading back a group of voices chattering meets his ears.  And it is definitely more than two people which can potentially be trouble.  He takes a step back as a group of four guys emerge from an alleyway. He holds his breath as the two in the front seem to have missed him.  His luck quickly runs out when one of the guys in the back smirks wickedly and elbows the guy in front of him.  And soon four sets of eyes are on him.

He tries to bite back the panic beginning to gather in his stomach, a hand grasping the hilt of his knife prepared for a fight.  Dark green eyes glower as the four approach him, it doesn't take much thinking to realize they're probably not a group that abides the rules.

"What have we here?" One of them sneers, eyes scanning Akira and most likely assessing his threat level.  Akira continues to glare at them as they spread out around him, already knowing this is not going to end well for him.  

"You think you can handle being out on your own?"  The man to Akira's right laughs, closer to him than Akira realized.  Just as he turns towards the voice two hands shove him into the center of the group.  His fall is stopped when his back lands against a chest rumbling with laughter.  He spins around angrily, his fist quickly connecting with the man's jaw.   If he's going down it isn't going to be without a fight.  He turns his attention to the man on his left as the first one reels back from the unexpected blow.  In a fury of minutes his knuckles are bloody and somehow he has managed to keep the four guys away from him for the most part.  He can't keep up with it though, and soon he finds two of the men have him by his arms.  He thrashes against their hold and kicks out when one of them, bruised and angry stands before him. 

"You're going to regret fighting back."  He says lowly. 

Akira chokes for air went a fist connects with his stomach and knocks the breath out of him.  Hit after hit lands on his ribs, the man isn't letting up in the least.  He sags forward, difficult to breathe and finding it increasingly hard to hold himself up even with the help of the two grasping his arms tightly.  He groans as his head is yanked back by his hair.   _Oh right, there is a fourth guy._  He remembers dazedly.   

"Put him on the ground.." The one who has been using him as a human punching bag mutters, obviously the leader of this little quad.  Suddenly the two pairs of hands on his arms and the hand in his hair are gone, and he's falling to the snow.  He tries to turn onto his side to curl in on himself, and groans in protest when he is roughly pushed to his back.  "We're going to have some fun with you."  Something in the way he says it stirs a sense of fear throughout Akira and he uses his remaining strength to struggle in a final attempt to try and escape.  "Hold his arms."  The leader grits, a hand reaching down to rest on Akira's hip as his other hand slowly bunches up his shirt to reveal pale skin.   Bruises already starting to bloom across the otherwise clear skin.  "What a mess."  

"Get off me!"  Akira growls, immune to cold as the snow begins to seep through his clothes.  The man above him laughs cruelly, the hand on Akira's hip moving down a bit as he feels the younger up.

"Oh, what is this?"  

Akira stiffens when his knife is slipped from the sheath on his belt.  The cool metal sliding along his exposed stomach quickly putting a stop to his squirming.

"What the fuck do you want?"  The forgotten fourth man somewhere off to the side demands.  Akira briefly wonders who he could possibly be speaking to when he hears a sickening squelch of flesh being sliced through and a scream of anguish.  The two guys holding his arms jump up ready for a fight, though their eyes change from anger to terror in only a blink.

"Shiki.."  One of them breathes.  Akira doesn't know who this Shiki person is, all he knows is that this is his chance.  He pushes against the man atop him who is luckily briefly distracted by the chaos ensuing around them.  He can hear the two men that had been holding him down pleading with Shiki, offering their tags and trying to bargain.  More sounds of screams erupt and the snow is soon a mess of splattered blood and insides that have spilled out of some of Akira's attackers.  

He wrestles trying to get his knife back, but his body hurts, the man is bigger than him, and soon overpowers him.  He grunts as he is what feels like the hundredth time slammed on his back.  Sending a fist flying and hitting the guy hard right in the face.  A small feeling of victory flashes through him when he feels the man's nose crack from the blow.  He grimaces as blood drips down onto his shirt, angry eyes burning down at him.

"You bitch!" The furious man's outburst seems to make time slow down.  Akira isn't prepared when he feels his own knife slice up and across his abdomen.  The pain spreads through him like lightning.  He hears a scream of anguish then realizes he is the one screaming.  The man above him isn't there anymore, he has no idea where he went.  The only thing his mind is registering is that there is blood. Everywhere.  He tentatively reaches a hand down to assess the damage.  The wound is long, hardly visible through the warm blood escaping his body.  His vision swirls when he touches his hand to his body and his hand comes back covered in his own blood.  He breathes heavily, panic settling in him.  He makes an attempt to stand but is only able to get himself to his knees.  A shaking hand pressing against his abdomen in an attempt to slow the loss of blood.  His free hand finds his bloodied knife abandoned on the ground.  Glazed green eyes begin searching around him, everything is entirely too quiet.  

The snowy road around him is a bloodbath.  The four of his attackers are lying about on the ground.  Intestines are strewn around and one of the dying bodies is gurgling on their own blood.  He feels a bit of bile at the back of his throat wondering if that will be him shortly.  Bleeding out in the snow left to die.  Vaguely he remembers there was a fifth person.  Just as he remembers that thought, he hears someone approaching behind him.  He figures he doesn't have much time left at this point and is hoping this Shiki person will make it quick.  A deep amused chuckle comes from the man, making a shiver of dread rush through them.  Who would look at a scene like this and laugh?  He grips his knife harder his other hand shaking violently as he continues losing blood. 

 "I didn't think you made it out of that pup."  The voice is low and menacing even with an amused ring to it.  Finally, a tall, thin but man steps before Akira and he sees him for the first time.  He musters up his best glare he can while trying not to fall over in pain.  His glare is met with crimson eyes.  The man before him is dressed head to toe in leathery clothes that match his raven colored hair perfectly.  He is armed with a katana and brings with him a terrifying air of confidence.  The amused look slips off his face when he catches sight of Akira's glare, and he lifts that menacing blade before pressing it to Akira's throat.   "Still have some fight left in you?"  Shiki asks, eyes narrowing to Akira's hand holding his knife.  "If you ask nicely, maybe I will let you go off and die on your own instead of slowly by my hand."  He smirks, pressing the sword harder to Akira's skin as his eyes gauge for a reaction.  Akira doesn't realize he has been holding his breath until he exhales and sees it float into the air as a little cloud of white.  He shivers, consciousness beginning to slip as his vision blurs.   _As if I'm about to beg this guy to let me die._  Instead he slowly closes his eyes, and thinks of the Safezone.  He wonders what Rin and Motomi are doing and if they will be okay when he doesn't come home.  But most of all he is glad it is him out here in the snow and not one of his friends.  He leans against the blade of Shiki's katana, accepting what is going to happen next.

"Do it." He breathes, his eyes on the messy snow. The cold blade is a stinging pinch along his neck.  His body feels so heavy and tired.  The next thing he knows everything is darkness.  He doesn't feel Shiki move his sword from his neck before he can hurt himself on it as he faints, and he doesn't see the confusion spread across Shiki's face.


	2. Suffer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will have a great deal more POV in it. Shiki's POV, and not as much skipping around. This will probably be up before anyone reads the first chapter lmao
> 
> Also, Shiki hardly ever will refer to others as human. For example he often will refer to Akira as a pup, a dog, a pet, Akita (play on Akira's name being similar to the dog breed Akita), and he also will refer to others as trash or filth. He likes cleanliness in this fic and one way he cleans house is by clearing the streets of Igura. 
> 
> Its important to know that Shiki pretty much controls everything in Igura. Almost. Arbitro is afraid of him. The Executioners know better than to mess with him. Anything he needs to get his hands on, he can get it. So if ever he has something and you're wondering, "why/how does he have access to those things". Everything he has he has for a reason, it isn't convenience. And what he can't find in Igura, he can get through Arbitro and Arbitro gets goods from outside the fighting zone.

Shiki frowns as the young man before him crumbles to a heap in the snow, a limp hand splayed on his open abdomen. How old is this kid anyways? Surely he isn't that old. _Just a pup._   _Eighteen at most_ , he decides.  He sheathes his katana and eyes the youth.  Sure, young people are common in Igura, but there is something different about this one.  He must have been afraid, but he didn't beg for mercy or grovel at his feet like most of his victims.  What a waste, bleeding out in some abandoned city.  Shiki turns to start heading home, prepared to leave the mess for the birds to clean up.  He only takes two steps before he pauses, hearing a quiet groan from the pup behind him.  Crimson eyes peak over his shoulder and he doesn't like the hesitation beginning to build inside him.  Deciding something, he turns back around and walks the few steps back to loom over the dying man.  If he is still breathing his breath isn't clouding the air anymore. 

He doesn't know what makes him do it, but the next thing he finds himself doing is leaning down and scooping the pup up in his arms.  He feels too cold, and too light.  He also grabs the pup's knife and slips it under his own belt.  With a deep, annoyed sigh, Shiki carries his new addition close to his chest and walks home.  

Shiki's condo is located on the upper floor of a four-story building.  He takes the fire escape up to his floor, the only existing access point being the fire escape window or the door within the condo that leads to a stairwell descending into three stories of darkness below.  And with the bloody mess currently against his chest he figures walking up the fire escape where he can see would be wiser.  The window leads right to the bedroom Shiki uses as his own, so as he slips through the unlocked passage he deposits Akira on the bed and draws his sword.  He does a quick look throughout his home to see if anyone was daring enough to slip inside while he was away.  As always, there is no one and the door to the stairway is still secure.  He secures the window with the big panel of wood that is hinged on the inside and uses the latch and padlock.  If anyone were to try to get in while he were home, the whole point is that he would hear it before they got to him.  After his little ritual of making sure his home is secure for the evening he allows himself to relax, and turns his attention to the man currently getting blood all over his bed. 

He walks into the bathroom adjoining his room, getting out towels, a small bucket below his sink, and the medical bag he keeps under there.  After fills the bucket with warm water he walks back into his bedroom Akira still lying unconscious.  Dropping the bucket and medical bag on the floor he lifts Akira up and places a towel beneath him.  He also slips the heavy green jacket off of him to have easier access to his arms and veins.  Then tears open his medical bag and slips out a few vials.  Saving himself the trouble he decides to just cut off the shirt the pup is wearing.  From what he can see the wound isn't too deep, so unless damaged from his earlier beating there shouldn't be any internal bleeding.  With a syringe he injects an anesthetic into Akira's arm.   _Time to get started._

**...**

When Shiki is done he has Akira's blood all over him.  His arms, probably his face from rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand while he stitched Akira back together.  He even has an iv of fluids hooked up to the pups arm.  The bucket of clear water now runs red, and in general the room is a mess.  And Shiki doesn't like it.  He uses a washcloth to clean up Akira's tummy of dried blood, glowering at all the darkening bruises scattered across the man's body that weren't put there by him.  The pup probably has a broken rib or two as well but Shiki knows better than to mess with pressing around after he took such a bad beating.  He drops the washcloth into the bucket and covers the fresh stitches in some antiseptic cream, grimacing at the stitched skin under his fingers, knowing just how uncomfortable they are when they're in your own skin.  Once he is finished he walks into the bathroom and scrubs his hands clean of blood, drying them on a towel then picks up the mess in his bedroom.  Picking up the medical bag he decides to get a few vials of morphine out as well as clean syringes and puts them in his nightstand drawer in case he is feeling generous later.  The bed is an absolute loss.  The sheets and all need changed but he can't very well do that with the unconscious pup lying there still hooked up to an iv.  He scowls at the unconscious form and decides cleaning the bed will have to wait.  

He walks into the bathroom and decides that while he can't clean the bed he can at least get cleaned up himself.  He strips out of his clothes crusted with dried blood from not only Akira but the trash he slaughtered earlier that evening.  It's disgusting.  He eyes his katana where it is leaning against the wall, and mentally reminds himself to clean the blade later as well.  Standing naked he avoids looking at the mirror above the sink and steps into the shower.  He waits for the water to heat up before stepping under it.  For a long time he lets the hot water just pour over him and wash away the dirt grime and more accurate blood from his body.  He gets some unscented shampoo in his hands and scratches it into his scalp, soapy red water pooling around his feet.  Once his hair is clean after a second wash and the water rinses out clear he goes to work on scrubbing his body clean.  When he is finally done he shuts off the water and steps onto the small grey rug situated between the tub and sink.  Thankfully the mirror is completely fogged up.  He plucks a clean towel from the closet and ruffles it through his hair then once over his body.  Gazing into his room he sees that Akira is still sleeping.  He walks with all his naked glory into his room, grabbing a pair of black boxers from his dresser and stepping into them.  Stepping over to Akira he can see the youth's body is beginning to shiver violently, which is a good thing.  It means he is coming around and his body is trying to warm itself.  On the other hand, Shiki has forgotten they were out in the snow and Akira could be in danger of getting hypothermia.  In fact he most likely already is. _What a pain._  

Shiki sighs in disgust, turning the condos heating up with a scowl.  He hates the heat, and knows it is going to get hot in here.  He moves back to Akira and places a hand flat on his chest, and discovers he is indeed very cold.  Sighing under his breath he decides to strip Akira out of his remaining wet clothes.   _Why did I bring him here to begin with?_  Deft hands unfasten Akira's belt and slip it free, the knife sheath dropping onto the bed.  Tossing the belt onto the floor he unbuttons the pup's jeans next, and it takes a moment to get the cold, damp material to come free.  He disposes the denim onto the floor and looks at the last article of clothing covering his pup.  The damp jeans managed to pull Akira's boxers down partly with them, resting so lowly they are barely covering his manhood.  Shiki considers whether or not to remove the boxers as well, resting a hand on one of Akira's upper thighs to see if the snow soaked through.  They are cold but not wet, so he decides to leave them on for now.  The guys probably already going to freak out when he wakes up somewhere different and pain wracking his body.  Shiki imagines Akira waking, writhing in pain and discomfort begging for anything to ease his suffering.  His member twitches in interest at his little fantasy.  Maybe that's why I brought him here.  He looks over the pup lying in his bed, and admits to himself he really likes his face.  Especially those arrogant eyes.  

Crawling onto his bed he situates himself at the end, deciding he needs to get the guys blood flowing.  He starts just above Akira's ankles and uses his hands to rub slim, toned legs.  Crimson eyes dilate when Akira groans softly in his sleep, Shiki figures he is probably in-between being consciousness and dreamland.  

He tries to calculate in his mind how long until his pup will recover well enough that he can repay him for saving his life.  

With the heat now throughout the condo and helping to rub some circulation back into Akira's limbs, his shivering has stopped and by now any lingering anesthesia will be wearing off.  Meaning he will be waking up soon and in a hell of a lot of pain.  Shiki is standing in his room, debating whether or not he should dose Akira with some morphine so his pain won't be as awful when he wakes up.  

Then he reminds himself, he needs the mutt to feel that pain.  The morphine will be a reward for good behavior, and at the same time it will show Akira what he has to offer.  But to make him want to escape that pain he needs to make him feel it first.  A flurry of excitement dances through Shiki's mind, and he decides to go to go rest on the couch until he hears Akira wake up.  He knows he will hear him when he wakes.  Shiki lies back on the couch, but is unable to find sleep with his mind continuously wandering to the warm body in his bed.  He climbs off the couch, giving a small frustrated stretch. It's been a long day.  

With the extra time he takes to cleaning the blade of his katana, and even cleans the pup's knife as well.  When he is finished he walks again back to his room, wondering if he should restrain his new flatmates free hand and one of his feet to keep from tearing his stitches when he wakes up.  He shakes the thought from his mind, surely the pup will have enough sense not to hurt himself further. 

Knowing Akira will be waking up soon he slips on a tight fitted black shirt on despite the too hot air filling his home.  Feeling hot and increasingly agitated he turns the heat back down then plops himself onto the couch.  An annoying sense of impatience and excitement stir within him that he hasn't felt for a long time.  

**...**

He must have shut his eyes at some point, because the next thing he knows he is being woken by a cry in the dark.  Crimson eyes are immediately alert and awake as they adjust to the dim lighting.  

_He's finally awake._  A dangerous smirk dances across Shiki's face and that coil of excitement flares to life inside him.  Upon entering his room and turning on the light Shiki immediately notices one thing aside from Akira's waking whimpers of pain. 

There is more blood on his bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any questions/comments are very welcome. (: 
> 
> Shiki is a sadist, I forgot to put that in the tags but hey when has Shiki ever not been a sadist. Hopefully this isn't too dreadfully awful.


	3. Pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akira wakes up, this chapter is his pov.  
> Having lost a lot of blood he will be in even more pain from waking after having a surgical procedure.  
> Uh warning of more descriptive needle usage.

When tired dark eyes blink slowly awake Akira lets a pained groan leave his lips. His mind tries to piece together what happened and where he is. It's warm. Is he back at the Safezone? A foreign _something_ is in his forearm and he immediately reaches over and yanks the intrusive needle(?) out, whimpering at the pinch of pain and pressing his hand over the little stream of blood he feels rushing out. Something isn't right this place isn't right.  The blankets are softer than his own back at the Safezone and overall it just smells _different_ here.  

A sudden horrible wave of pain courses through his body and an awful feeling of tightness pulls at his skin.  He tries to sit up and the pain in his abdomen intensifies so he lies back down and squeezes his eyes shut, bright colors dancing around his vision.

The memories begin to flood back into him. A group of people attacked him he remembers vaguely, a sick knot forming in his stomach. _He remembers taking a beating.  He remembers one of the men taking an unwanted interest in him..  And he remembers..._ Delicately he reaches a shaky hand down in the darkness to feel at his tummy, his panic becoming overwhelming when he feels a long line of wiry stitches holding him together.  Just feeling the wound makes him breathe harder, suddenly feeling all the pain his injury brings with it.  He is glad the darkness saves him from seeing what his fingers can feel.  A wave of nausea washes over him, all he wants is for Rin or Motomi to walk in and tell him they found him.  But he knows he wasn't saved by his friends, this place isn't the Safezone.  He is somewhere else.  

His body hurts.  Not only from the long line of stitches but his breathing is labored and he imagines most of his upper body is bruised purple, blue and yellow.  In the back of his mind his left side is screaming in pain.  But the sickening tight pulling from his stitches is so painful.  He groans in pain, draping his bloodied forearm over his eyes and letting his other hand grasp tightly at the comforter covering the bed.  The pain and nausea is getting worse.  A bead of sweat slides down his temple.  He wants to scream in frustration and helplessness, but he is afraid of not knowing where he is and having no idea of who brought him back here.  

He bites his lip hard, the coppery taste of blood invading his mouth and bile rising up in his throat.  Despite his attempts to muffle himself the pain is becoming too much.  The cry that escapes him sounds pathetic even to his own ears.  He hopes he will pass out soon.  Swimming in pain he doesn't notice the approaching footsteps until a light is flicked on.  

**...**

Akira can only assume he is in some sort of fucked up nightmare when the infamous Shiki is sauntering into the room with a pleased smirk on his face.  No.  He wants to run away, feeling like a cornered animal as Shiki comes closer.  He doesn't know he is shrinking backwards until his head makes contact with what must be the headboard of the bed.  Shiki laughs lowly, shutting the bedroom door behind him as if Akira has some chance of escaping through it.

"Comfy?"

The question ignites a flash of anger in Akira, wet eyes narrowing into a spiteful glare.  He knows this man probably didn't bring him here because of the kindness of his heart.  What he doesn't know is why had Shiki saved him at all?  Nervous waves of nausea strike him but he is determined not to show this guy he is afraid.  Avoiding looking down at his body he averts his eyes to the side and sees an adjoining bathroom through a door across the room.  The padlocked window just a few feet next to him makes his anxiety spike.

"Stay away from me."  His voice is scratchy to his ears and he desperately wants some water.  Shiki's smirk widens, stepping closer until he is right next to the bed.  

"Why don't you take a good look at yourself and say that again?"  

Akira just wants to disappear as Shiki looms next to the bed.  He tears his eyes away from staring absently at the nightstand and takes a nervous peak down at his torso.  Finally seeing the state of his body the pain seems to get a hundred times worse.  His stomach is indeed littered with dark ugly bruises.  But Akira can't look away from the long line of precise stitches stretching along his abdomen, some blood oozing from them.  The blankets he is laying on is a mess of dried blood, some still wet stray blood splattered across his chest and crusted on his forearm where he tore the needle out after waking.  With a grimace he notices finger shaped bruises on his upper arms from being held down earlier.  He swallows thickly, but it does nothing to ease his growing nausea and panic.  Lying his head back he squeezes his eyes shut.  Shiki's voice comes again, a tad softer this time.

"Do you want something for the pain?"

Dark green eyes open to slits, glaring a hole at the untrustworthy older man.  At this point he is sure that Shiki is enjoying his pain, and he suddenly realizes why he was brought here.

_"If you ask nicely, maybe I will let you go off and die on your own instead of slowly by my hand."_  He remembers Shiki making him the offer while they were out in the snow, but who would have thought he was serious?  Who would think he would go to this extent to make someone suffer?  Growing panic swells up in his throat and he worries he is going to start hyperventilating.  His stitches painfully ache as his breathing hitches.  He is oblivious to Shiki pulling open the nightstand drawer and fiddling around with things.

"Look at me."  Shiki demands, a rough hand taking Akira by the jaw and directing his face towards him.  Green eyes zero in on what looks like a syringe in Shiki's other hand.  The raven haired male chuckles coldly as crimson eyes follow Akira's gaze.  "Now.  Say please, pup."

"Wh-What is that?" Akira breathes the question, ignoring the order from Shiki and eyeing the light colored liquid in syringe.  He has no idea what it is, but somehow the idea that it _could_ help outweighs any worry that it could hurt him.  If the worst-case scenario is dying and escaping this pain and Shiki, then he is willing to risk it.

"You don't get to ask questions."  Shiki mutters, his patience already very clearly running thin.  "I'm going to tell you only one more time.  If you want this. . ." He waves the syringe in front of Akira's face.  "Say please."

". . ."  Akira stubbornly glowers up at Shiki.  He is not going to beg.  "No."  He says finally, smacking Shiki's hand from his chin and turning his gaze towards the wall next to the bed.  He nearly chokes when the hand that was on his chin is suddenly on his neck.

"Disobedient."  Shiki's voice is a growl, his fingers tightening their grip around Akira's throat.  And this time Akira does choke, his hands trying to pull Shiki's fingers off of him.  He isn't expecting how strong Shiki is, his grip tightening further and pushing him into the mattress.  "I can and will break you."  

Akira coughs and sputters as the hand jerks free and he can breathe again, touching his hands to his neck.  A blush blooms on his face when a rough hand tugs his boxers downwards, thankfully not enough to completely put himself on display.

"Hit me and I'll break your fingers."  Shiki promises, meeting green eyes in a hard glare.  The older man leans over him, placing one hand on the Akira's hip before lowering the syringe to the pup's upper thigh and inserting it directly into the muscle.  The initial pinch makes him grit his teeth, but what hurts worse is how long it takes to be done, the intrusive needle situated in his muscle more painful than any shot he has ever received.  Shakily one of his hands seek out Shiki's shoulder, grasping tightly.  The needle slips out of him and Shiki tosses it to a waste-bin from where he remains leaning over Akira.  "Who gave you permission to touch me?"  His red eyes look furious.

Akira pulls his hand away as if he has been burned, he does _not_ like Shiki's angry voice.  Shiki stares him down a minute longer, then straightens his back as he stands.  His eyes scan over the blood crusted blankets and dry blood on the pup resting there.   

"You've made a fucking mess of my bed."  

The snarky quip leads Akira to give the older man a condescending sneer.  He flinches reflexively when Shiki is suddenly back at his side again, thinking he has finally pushed his luck.  An amused smirk crosses Shiki's features at the open display of fear, not reassuring Akira in the least.  

" _Now_ , you have permission to touch me."  Shiki permits, picking Akira up bridal style forcing a whimper of pain from the younger.  Tentatively Akira moves a hand to hold onto Shiki's shoulder again, and he is carried from the room.  He grunts as he is pretty much dropped unceremoniously onto the couch, offering a glare of resentment.  Shiki leaves him there and returns to his room, tearing off the blankets and disposing of the nearly empty bag of iv fluids.  Akira is absently watching Shiki straighten up his room, his mind getting a little foggy.  Now that he thinks about it he is feeling a lot better.  He is beginning to feel like he is floating on a cloud as the pain subsides.  The living room is properly furnished, a very unexpected sight to see in Igura.  Green eyes look around the room, there is an armchair near the couch, a coffee table with several dogtags on it, a tall bookshelf against one wall full of books and a few other items, and a clock on the wall reads that it is around 1:08AM.  Off of the living room is well-kept kitchen.  Stainless steel counters and appliances.  In his right state of mind Akira would think this place rather unsettling.  He spots a dark maroon blanket draped on the couch he is lying on and decidedly tugs it down and around himself.  It's soft.  He curls himself towards the back of the couch, finally feeling some comfort.  It isn't long before sleep takes him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The shot is intramuscular. Meaning, instead of into a vein you stick it right into a muscle and it hurts like a bitch. Main injection sites for these are usually upper arm (Akira's are both bruised and hey maybe Shiki is feeling considerate), abdomen (ow), your bum, and upper thigh. So when Shiki goes for the upper thigh maybe he's being nice or maybe he just wants to see more skin. ;)


	4. Clean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay getting this chapter out. I traveled home for Christmas break from University and have been having some problems with a few of my pets, one of them went missing and another one is having health problems. I have time today so here is the new chapter, I hope you enjoy it. ^^
> 
>  
> 
> Warnings for this chapter; dub-con elements.

When Akira wakes up he finds that he is back in Shiki's bed, the soft blanket from the couch still draped over him. He feels oddly alone in the darkness, listening carefully he doesn't hear any movement indicating that Shiki is around. Moving slowly he moves one leg then the other over the side of the bed, testing the waters before he tries to stand. His stitches pull in protest when he gets on his feet but the pain is not as bad as it was. Walking slowly he makes his way to the door leading into the rest of the house, he flicks the light-switch on and presses his ear to the door, not hearing a peep on the other side. He quietly pulls the door open and finds the living room and kitchen empty. A window behind the couch looks down shows Akira that he is several stories up in the building, and a heavy snow is falling outside. With Shiki nowhere in sight, Akira wanders around the condo. The door that he would try to escape though if he wasn't so beat up is locked to make sure outsiders remain outsiders. He peeks out it anyways, seeing nothing but a stairwell that descends into darkness. Unable to really defend himself at the moment the darkness unsettles him and he quickly shuts and locks the door again.

The need for water is making him a little dizzy on his feet, so he heads into the kitchen. He wonders if Shiki would notice if he took one of the tempting bottles of water out of the fridge. What would happen if he took one and Shiki noticed? Swallowing dryly he decides he is too thirsty to care, and snatches one of the cold plastic bottles. He downs the cooling liquid quickly, crumpling the empty bottle in his hand and tossing it to the floor. He is feeling bitter and reckless, but he reasons if anyone has a right to be unhappy right now it is him.  Looking down at his torso he grimaces at the bit of ooze that have escaped his stitches, and decides he wants to get himself cleaned up.  He heads back to Shiki's room and walks into the adjoining bathroom, the place really is spotless.  The thought of a warm bath on his bruised body ache with want.  He shuts the door behind him, deciding he should probably hurry up before Shiki gets back from wherever.  

Turning on the hot water to the bath he looks through the closet and finds himself a washcloth and a towel for when he is ready to get out.  He slips off his boxers and steps into the warm water, sinking down and letting it flow over him.  It feels so good.  He pulls one knee towards himself and looks at the place where Shiki gave him a shot, a small dark purple bruise in its place.  To his surprise there is a second injection mark next to the first one, making him wonder how long he was sleeping if Shiki was able to give him another shot.  How did _that_ not wake him up?  

Lying back and straightening his legs out he moans softly, his body loving the comforting water surrounding him.  Lazily he gently rubs the sore skin around his stitches, clearing away the little bit of fluid and blood.  Breathing a sigh of contentment he shuts his eyes and lays back intending to enjoy the warmth for a few minutes.  

No sooner does he close his eyes he hears a door slam.   _Shiki is home._   He knows he doesn't have a chance of sneaking back to the room before Shiki finds him, much less drain the tub and get dried off.  Playing it cool he tries to relax when he hears heavy footsteps approaching.  The door is thrown open and a furious Shiki looks inside, quickly spotting what he was looking for.  

"I have got to teach you some manners."  Shiki mutters, a smirk playing on his lips.  Akira tenses when the older man steps in the room and shuts the door behind him.  Dark green eyes can't help but notice that Shiki's clothes are covered in blood.  "I got a little carried away today."  Shiki muses, setting his katana on the sink before stripping out of his long leather jacket.  

"I was just getting out."  Akira says quietly, looking away from where Shiki has begun undressing, heavy snow covered boots thudding against the floor.

" _Was_."  Shiki echoes, pausing for a minute before decidedly tugging his tight black shirt off and tossing it aside.  Akira peeks over at the tall man, eyes raking over Shiki's very nicely sculpted body.  Shiki's back and torso are both littered with scars old and new.  When he starts taking his pants off Akira promptly looks away.  "Move forward."  Shiki orders, clearly expecting Akira to bathe with him.

"I'm getting out."  Akira grits, forgetting modesty and pulling his aching body to his feet.  Focused on making his escape he is oblivious to crimson eyes hungrily looking him over.  He is trying to step by Shiki to grab his towel when an arm wraps around him and roughly pulls him back towards the tub.    

"I don't think so."  Shiki chuckles low and dark, lifting a thrashing Akira up and dragging him into the still warm bathwater.  

"Let me go!" Akira hisses, his stitches pulling painfully from struggling against the stronger man.  

"Lie back."  Shiki growls, an arm just under Akira's neck pulling the tense pup towards his chest.  A large hand splays heavily on Akira's stitches, making him squirm in discomfort.  "Now look what you have done."  Shiki mutters, smearing a bit of the fresh blood that has begun seeping through Akira's aggravated stitches.  "Why so tense?" He chuckles, sliding a hand down past Akira's abdomen, just barely grazing the happy trail leading down to the pup's manhood.  

"Don't fucking touch me!"  The reaction is instant, Akira smacking Shiki's hand away and shooting an angry glare over his shoulder, his face only a little red with embarrassment.  Shiki laughs lowly, but he doesn't try to touch the younger _there_ again.

"You haven't earned that yet."  He informs him with a smirk, his hands moving to soft silver hair.  "Your hair looks like shit.  Be thankful I'm going to wash it for you."

Akira stays quiet while large hands begin to scratch gently at his scalp, shutting his glaring eyes when Shiki dumps a cup of warm water onto his head.  He bites his lip as Shiki puts some soap in his hands and returns them to wet silvery hair, nearly making a groan escape him.  He will never admit how good having his hair washed feels.  As his hair is finished being rinsed of the soapy shampoo he blinks heavy eyelids open.  

"Good boy."  Shiki murmurs, his hands moving to rest on Akira's hips.  "How about a reward?"  Before Akira can question the offer he feels the warmth of Shiki's breath ghosting on the back of his neck, a warm lick on the shell of his ear makes him shudder.

"What are you-"  His breath is caught in his throat when a rough hand suddenly gropes him, and to his horror he is already a little hard from having his hair washed.  He groans against his will when Shiki's hand wraps around his member, hot breath tickling the back of his neck when the older male chuckles softly.  Hunching forward he grabs at Shiki's wrist, moaning softly when he feels Shiki lick the shell of his ear.  "Stop .."  Shiki's free hand slides across Akira's upper chest as he slowly brings Akira to full hardness.

"Maybe.  If you ask nicely."  Shiki smirks, tightening his grip to what he knows must be nearly painful.  "You don't want to fuck my hand?"  Akira whimpers softly, a furious blush on his face.  No one has ever touched him like this.  He tries to squirm forwards when he feels Shiki hardening against his back. _He's getting off on this._

"No."  Akira breathes, hoping Shiki will stop if he says he doesn't want it.  

"This feels pretty interested."  Shiki murmurs, loosening his grip and quickening his pace, smirk growing when Akira shudders from his touch.  "Feel good?"  Akira stays quiet, trying not to react to that deep voice, already embarrassingly close.  He shuts his eyes tight, grasping Shiki's wrist as the man continues to work him over.  He feels his climax quickly approaching and can't hold back the low moan that escapes him.  Shiki practically beams when Akira shudders one last time against him, coming over his hand with a quiet groan.  The pup's face is bright red with embarrassment, his breath fast as he comes down from the high of his orgasm.  Shiki clears his throat, and suddenly Akira is struck with fear of what is going to happen next. _Is Shiki going to expect him to return the 'favor'?  Is he going to try to.._ He stiffens as he remembers being held down in the snow, his stomach churning.  "Get out."  Shiki's voice snaps Akira from his inner turmoil.  Confusion crosses his face, and his hesitance earns him a sigh of impatience.  "Get out, go to my room and dry off."  Shiki growls the order, his hands pulling Akira back by his hips.  "Unless you want to stay awhile?"  Akira doesn't have to be told again, and scrambles out of the water onto shaky legs.  He snatches his towel off the counter and doesn't look back as he shuts the door behind him and darts into Shiki's room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boop boop. Feedback is awesome, I always read any and all comments. (:

**Author's Note:**

> Hm so. I just wrote this in one sitting. I also watched Children of the Corn and like two other movies just hanging out in my dorm room.
> 
> Let me know what you think? Any positive feedback will make me want to write more, I like writing for people I don't really write for myself, but I do enjoy doing it. So if you like it so far, let me know? (: If people like it the next chapter will be up soon.
> 
> Also, this is a bit random but I have some Destiel fanfictions I will be writing, but I specifically wanted this work to be my first on here because Shiki and Akira are probably my favorite pairing among fandoms. ^^ 
> 
> I'll read any and all comments. What do you think will happen next?


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